Poems by Richard Epstein. Not much commentary, only one picture (sorry, Alice), and little disruption: just a place to find poems by Richard Epstein

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

The summer doldrums

seem to have begun in spring. Global warming, I presume. It seems quiet and sort of half hearted around the poetry areas where I read. Perhaps the activity is all taking place in a Room of Requirements or a new branch of the He-Man Woman-Haters' Club*, undisclosed to me. I attribute the silence here to a general sense of awe, readers struck dumb by wonder. Occam might suggest a simpler explanation.

*Are allusions to The Little Rascals still generally comprehensible? If I sing the "Happy Birthday, Mr. Hood" song, will anyone know what he got as a gift?

4 comments:

Anonymous
said...

Or it could be that no one really gives a flying fuck what you write since it all sucks anyway. That could be it. I mean, let's face it, you really haven't accomplished much have you? And your writing is stilted, old and tiresome. Try something else. Anything but writing. Thanks o behalf of all of us.